Painting Honey
by itsmcvicaryo
Summary: ""Yes." Italy breathed, and his lips guided back to Germany's with a new energy, lips and teeth gnashing. It was far from a perfect kiss, lips slick and their mouths barely staying together, only connected by a string of saliva that would fall down their chins; but it was perfect." Germany/Italy, rated M for yaoi and slight cussing okay idk have fun!/?/?


**Forward: **  
**Well, hello there. I am so fucking DONE with school ugh there are like 25 or less days of school left and uuuugh I just want to sleeeeeeeeeeep. But anyway I recently read this doujinshi I just really really wanted to extend and *groans and falls on the floor* it is so cuuuuuute, so I mean, naturally, I had to add smut at the end. Yeah. I just wanted some cute/smutty Gerita so here you go. Based on the doujinshi "Sky-Colored Canvas", I give you, *does the splits* PAINTING HONEY *confetti explodes everywhere***

He was perfect, the man France was talking to. He was utterly flawless; with smooth, fair skin and hair like honey as it melted in the sunlight. It was slicked back and his spine was held straight and confident, his arms strong at his chest. But France must have flicked his gaze to Italy at one point in time, for the fair-skinned man turned his head to where Italy was standing, the Italian's breath catching in his throat.

His face was well-defined, jaw sharp, like Big Brother Spain's, he thinks, and behind shimmering glass were the most captivating blue eyes Italy had ever seen. They were like the ocean, blue and thoughtful, and he blushed in spite of himself when the man's lips tipped up in a smile.

The wind suddenly picked up, and a multitude of papers, that Italy did not realize the other man was holding up until now, flew from the stack he held in his hands and straight onto Italy's face.

"Ah, the flyers!" He heard a French accent cry, and the Italian heard heavy footsteps sounding not far from him. He finally managed to pry the paper from his face once the wind died down, and found himself face to face with that perfect man.

"I'm sorry! Are you alright?" The man spoke, and electricity flew down Italy's spine at just how low and almost erotic the man's voice was, and he looked up at him. He had seen those blue eyes before, somewhere, but a long time ago that was. The man's eyes gleamed with interest, but also with apprehension, and Italy finally realized he had been staring when the man questioned him.

"What's wrong?" He spoke and Italy shook his head slightly, chuckling softly to himself.

"Oh, nothing." He gazed up at him again. "I'm alright." He offered a smile to the German, and the man again tipped up his lips a little bit.

It was when he had picked up the fliers and handed them back he actually felt the fair skin and he shivered, jerking his hands away as so he could run away if he felt. But he didn't; he only offered a handshake and his name before disappearing around the corner.

_"Who are you?" Italy had asked, the German looking down at his feet and almost blushing._

_"I-I'm Germany" He has said, a small, almost incoherent stutter in his lilting English, and Italy smiled. _

_"It's nice to meet you." The Italian whispered, and he carried on with his sentence. "Ciao~ I'm Italy! Nice to meet you!" He met Germany's firm handshake, and Italy could feel the tendons working in his strong forearms and long fingers as he shook. _

_He was captivated by it all. Everything about "him" was perfect. He wanted to get closer to him._

_He wanted to touch him._

_The man had left without another word, though. Just a small smile barely graced his lips before he sped off, one last paper fluttering around the deserted corner. Slim fingers picked up the scuffed paper, and amber eyes looked on in curiosity._

_"The Newspaper Club?"_

-

"Alright." Germany slammed down the chalk with a grating sound as he looked on at the board. "So our topic for this month is settled. Our targets will be the chairmen of each region. The deadline is next month, but the sooner the better." He sighed with a slightly irritated tone. "I'd like to head out and gather information right away, but..." his eyes cast downwards onto Italy, head in his arms and sleeping peacefully. Germany was as irritated as ever, but he decided to let it slide. Just like the ten other times before. "...he's asleep, isn't he?"

Japan gazed down at Italy as well, smiling slightly. "He is indeed asleep." He agrees, looking nervously at Germany. "Shall we leave the data collection for next time, then? I'm sure we'll all be more awake and gather more productive information than we could as of now." Japan offered a close-lipped smile, bag slung over his shoulder and hand on the door handle.

"I guess you're right." Germany ran a tired hand through his hair. "Well then, I'll spend a bit more time getting the materials together."

"I'm sorry. Well then-" Japan looked at Italy one last time. "Take care of Italy-kun, will you?" And without another word he slipped out the door.

The larger man sat down cautiously next to the sleeping Italian, awkwardly reaching out to pat his head. His hands strayed, though, and he felt the hair beneath his fingertips.

"Soft..." he thought, moving his hand away and opening the binder in front of him, icy eyes on the page rather than the man next to him.

He wouldn't admit it; oh no, he wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even Japan. His eyes and hands could barely behave themselves when he was around Italy, the way the Italian was drove him crazy.

If you believe in it, it was love at first sight.

The auburn hair that looked like an oil painting, one curl poking from the top of his head, bobbing or hanging, depending on his mood, it seems. His eyes were like liquid amber, and every time the man looked at him he was absolutely drowning in his gaze, either a small laugh or a question bringing him back to earth. His voice was light, and surrounded Germany with comfort as Italy talked or sang, his alto tone ringing in the afternoon air.

_Yes. It was love at first sight. _

-

When he awoke, his eyes fluttered open and he blinked twice, the sound of flipping papers hitting his ears. His eyes trailed upwards and he found Germany; eyes as icy as ever and focused on the page in front of him. He continued to stare, unbeknownst to the German, and Italy smiled to himself.

After he joined the Newspaper Club and befriended Germany, he came to notice that Germany is really handsome, seriously.

_'He's so handsome. I want to touch him...more. More. Hey...'_ Italy's thoughts trailed on, eyes glued to Germany's defined face, until he let words slip past his lips.

"...Germany." The German's head snapped downwards, and, if he wasn't mistaken, Germany's eyes softened a bit.

"You're awake?" He questioned, his voice edgy. Italy rubbed his eyes groggily.

"Ve~I was asleep?" Italy questioned, his amber eyes still foggy from sleep.

"'I was asleep?' Don't have me that. Japan went home already." Germany shook his head as Italy jumped.

"Ve? Oh no! I didn't give Japan a goodbye hug!"

"Well, it's your fault. Come now, let's head home." Germany rapped the papers on the desk and he looked down into questioning eyes.

"Did you wait for me?" The Italian asked brightly and Germany sighed, ruffling his hair and trying to suppress a smile at the small 've~' he cooed.

"Don't get the wrong idea." He corrected himself, starting to walk out the door and he felt a presence beside him. Italy was clinging gently to his arm and he smiled; even though Italy didn't see.

-

"The soccer club?" Italy asked, chewing his food hurriedly and crumbs adorned his face.

"Yes. Apparently, The Euro Club doesn't have enough players for the practice game next month, so they asked me to h-" Germany choked slightly as olive-skinned arms wrapped tightly around his neck, a sleek face coming to rest upon his shoulder.

"Heeeeeeeeey, Ita-chan, Japan, I hope you don't mind; I need to borrow Germany for_ juuuuust_ a moment~!" Spain shouted, and Germany squirmed.

"Spain! Don't cling so tightly-you're_ suffocating!_" He cried, trying to wriggle free. The Spaniard slumped against his shoulder, emerald eyes up in his head.

"Eh, you're cold-even though Italy is always clinging to you-"

"Soccer club? Hey, I'm good at soccer, I'll join!" Italy cried, and the Spaniard grinned.

"Reall-"

"Don't be silly, you have so many other clubs to tend to! And the Newspaper Club! Do you expect Japan to run it all on his own?" Germany shouted, and Japan let out a small 'ahh, I'll be alright, sir" when he saw Italy's curl dip slightly. "I'll be focused on this for the next month so Italy, Japan, I'm counting on you!" Germany hurried after Spain who pulled him along against his will, wincing at the screaming coming from England and France just below.

It was quite a few minutes before any of them spoke, Japan's pen scratching on his clipboard. "Are you lonely?" He queried, his eyes searching and they lit up in surprise as Italy cried out.

"What? N-no, not when Japan's here!" He trembled and twitched in obvious discomfort, and the man smiled to himself.

"It's alright to say your feelings..." He said, barely above a whisper and Italy choked out a sob, making Japan jump.

"W-what? H-how did you-" He jumped at the other, clenching his shirt and sobbing deeply. "Please don't tell him, Japan! Please don't! If Germany found out-"

"Would that be a problem?" Japan asked.

"Yes! It would be! Because I'm a guy, and Germany's a guy, but I'm not gay! I love girls like I'm supposed to!" He wailed into Japan's shirt, the other man sighing softly.

"Alright...I promise..." He sighed again, trying his best to comfort the Italian in his arms._ 'Ah... it's so frustrating...'_ He thought.

_'Good grief, the ones themselves are always the last to know.'_

-

The game was fast paced and harsh, ragged breathing rang through the dry air and drops of sweat landed like dew on morning grass. The whistle tweeted, loud and obnoxiously as Spain suspended it between his canines.

"_!Ay¡_ Prussia! I told you we're playing off-sides you can't get away with it today!" And Spain rolled his eyes as Prussia cussed, chucking the soccer ball at his brothers head.

"Calm down, Prussia. You'll hurt him of you keep at it. After all, he already seems..._distracted~_" France leaned his head onto Germany's shoulder, humming in content. "Looking_ so_ intensely, my my. Are you_ that_ interested in him, _hm?_" And Germany threw him off with a shudder, France chuckling to himself.

"S-shut up!" He cringed as his voice actually cracked and France winked. "You can leave, you know." Germany ground his teeth.

"We need to keep playing!" And with that he nodded at Spain the nation grinning and blowing the whistle between his pearly whites.

"Tweeeeeeeeeet!"

And from his window Italy looked down at the men on the field, eyes drawn to the brawny goalie, crouched down and taking a swift kick from Spain and the Spanish nation cried out as his shot was blocked. Italy chuckled.

"He was always so good at soccer..." he murmured, eyes continuing to shift to Germany. His arms rippled and his blue eyes were _so brilliant_, he could see them clear from here. With out the glass they were shining as well, with something Italy had never seen before.

_Apprehension._

He turned to his canvas and sighed, the chalk in his hand burning as he continued to stare at the German before sucking in a deep breath and letting the substance touch the paper.

He had felt this canvas under his hands so many times, his fingertips feeling across the surface and breathing in the scent of chalk and paint. He would act as though a blind person would; eyes closed and touch enlightened as he would delve his fingers into another world.

Another world soon to be shared with someone else.

Germany finally snapped, the lusty glances and winks France sent his way made his hands and mouth move on their own as he ripped his gloves off, marching over to the Mediterranean nation screaming Spanish curses into England's face. He grabbed Spain by the shoulders, and the other nation looked startled as Germany threw his gloves and towel into his hands.

"I'm leaving for a bit. Please excuse me." And he marched off the field, leaving everyone speechless, and leaving France giggling on the far side of the field.

"Germany, you_ bastard_!" England called, and he squeaked as he was picked up by his shirt by Spain.

"When I get through with you..." His curses and muttering in Spanish drowned out by France hollering.

"Calm down now, you two."

"Shut up, beardy!" Germany cringed as he heard fist to face and the sick crunch of bone, England screaming and France crying out "_oh Spain_, you're such a sadist!"

-

Italy felt at home; he felt alive with his hands near a canvas, eyes stuck to the paper man as he spoke.

_"I love you."_

The words seemed to echo through the room and the halls, the man running down the corridor felt the words bounce off his tongue.

_"I love you."_

Italy stopped and closed his eyes, sighing, the sound coming out a bit watery.

_"I love you. I love you. Even if it is only to the you on the canvas."_ He whispered, a shaking hand raising to touch the canvas when the door opened, his body ridged and cold.

"Hey, Italy-" Germany growled, and Italy gasped.

"N_-no_ don't come over here-!" He cried, eyes wide and body shaking, and he looked like a deer in the headlights, Germany thought.

"Why not! And more importantly-" He started, eyes shifting as he eyed the drawing, his words stolen from his throat. "T-this is-" he gazed in wonder, blue eyes a sea. "_-me?_" He looked over at Italy, the smaller man backed into the corner, trembling and his eyes were glassy and filling with tears.

"G-Germany, I-I-" He started, but Germany just stared, the words he was about to say disintegrated off his lips.

"Why-" he asked, and a tear slipped down Italy's cheek.

"Because I-" he stopped, clapping a hand over his mouth and biting his palm. He couldn't lie. Not now. Not when Germany just walked in on _this;_ he has never been as ashamed to say something in his life. But when Germany's cleats clicked on the floor, and his hands were caressing his neck and hair, he dropped the chalk, forgetting how to breathe. The air was gone from his lungs as their lips met, the spark almost _actually there_ as they backed into the window, the curtain shielding them from the outside world, the men down below, from everyone-

And his lips moved so smoothly, Italy thought he might pass out, grappling at Germany's neck and his fingers toying with the short blonde hair. They slid down, and so did the German's hands, their kiss breaking and Italy gasped, ragged and harsh, those soft lips meeting the olive skin of his neck.

"Germany..." He breathed, amber eyes watching the older man - is he older? Who even knows? - suck and bite at his neck, blue eyes gazing up.

_"I want to hear you."_ He murmured against his kiss-bruised skin. _"Say my name."_ And Italy groaned softly, grabbing a large hand and bringing it to his lips. He drug his dusty lips across the long fingers as he pressed soft, encouraging kisses to his fair skin. Germany groaned, the noise deep and in his chest when Italy drew his fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly and running his tongue over his knuckles.

"Germany..." He murmured, and whimpered slightly when he pulled the hand away from his lips. Fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and it soon draped around his shoulders, large hands smoothing down his sides. His hands were rough and calloused, but also smooth as well, his fingertips falling into the curves of Italy's hips. His touch was so much like caressing, a lot more practiced and intimate that was to be expected.

"Italy." He grabbed the Italian's fingers and squeezed, those blue eyes passionate and Italy was absolutely drowning in his gaze. "Do you...I mean..." Germany blushed up to his ears and the other man giggled, brushing a stray stand of the perfectly combed-back hair. He kissed him on the temple, guiding his hand until he heard a gasp tickle the skin of his neck.

"Yes." Italy breathed, and his lips guided back to Germany's with a new energy, lips and teeth gnashing. It was far from a perfect kiss, lips slick and their mouths barely staying together, only connected by a string of saliva that would fall down their chins; but it was perfect. A large hand struggled with Italy's belt, and once open that same hand reached in and earned a gasp from his partner.

"_G-Germania-_" Italy gasped again, eyes screwing shut as his pants were removed, his head back against the window sill. Blue eyes looked up at him, and there was an intensity that Italy had never seen before swimming in those blue seas. It was an intensity with the struggle for dominance and passion; and Italy would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on.

But a finger silenced him and he whimpered, eyes wide and mouth agape. Germany's eyes held that same concern again, pushing a finger in slicked with lube that Italy hadn't seen.

"Relax..._please..._" Germany kissed his temple, blushing across his face again and the other man giggled apprehensively. His giggle faded away into a soft groan as another finger was added, his body quivering and a yelp of shock left his lips when Germany hit something deep inside him.

"T-there." His voice trembled with his body and Germany's hands were on his cheeks, something nudging where his fingers once were.

"Soon. Please relax, Italy." He breathed deeply, breath tickling his ear and lips hovering over the skin just before his ear. He pushed in and immediate groans left his partners lips, smaller hands grappling onto his back.

"_Germania_." Italy panted, already so worked up the other man couldn't believe it. Someone was begging for him, someone wanted him;

_Someone loved him._

He rocked gently and reveled in the moans and yelps that slipped past Italy's lips, his eyes screwed shut and mouth in a silent scream. _"Felichen_...s-shit..." It was his turn to mewl lowly as he felt Italy swallow him to the base, those fragile hands moving into his hair. "_So t-tight, Italy._" And his lips were met with a kiss, Germany surprised at how much need and passion Italy could muster and they pulled away, chests heaving and eyes lust blown.

The new pace was crude, and the volume had escalated quickly from there, clothes thrown carelessly into the paint on the floor and hell, their own bodies were covered with it; their backs streaked with fingernail marks and paint lines that traced them.

Paint mixed with the come on Italy's belly, the coil in his abdomen as red-hot as the fiery paint on his skin. It uncoiled soon, though, a yowl of _"Germania!"_ ringing though the air as he came and Germany finished soon after, biting hard on his bottom lip. Paint was _everywhere_, and so was everything else as they laid there breathless; Italy draped over his partners strong torso.

"Damn." Italy breathed, and Germany chuckled, kissing Italy's temple.

"Damn is right."

-

They walked home in silence, the air awkward and still between them until one finally spoke, the large man's voice rough compared to the wind that swirled around them.

"...Sorry." He started, voice low. "All the sudden, er, t-that..." He whipped around, eyes intense and face blushing crimson. "B-but it's your fault too!" He shouted, Italy jumping and letting out a screech. "A picture like that...being shown a picture like that." Germany gripped his briefcase tighter in his grasp. "I couldn't take it any longer." His voice became softer, an almost apologetic tone seeping into his words. "...Being just "friends."" He looked away from Italy, away from those forgiving amber eyes. "I'm probably being conceded..." And Italy stared for a moment, his arms suddenly around Germany's big shoulders and burying his face into the fair skin of his neck.

"It's okay for you to be conceded." He murmured, a large hand finally coming to cradle the back of his neck.

"H-hey, Italy-"

"Don't look, Germany - I'm making a really weird face right now." He said, and the other man felt tears on his skin.

"You're hopeless...just for a bit." He sighed, eyes cast behind Italy and they went soft.

"H-hey Italy?"

"Ve?"

"When you finish that drawing...will you let me have it?" Italy looked up at him though glassy eyes.

"I-if that represents your feelings..." He whispered, his smile appearing when Germany began to mutter.

"That's only if you're okay with it..." He mumbled, refusing to meet the other man's eyes. He was caught off guard by a stolen kiss, though, and Italy smiled.

"Sure! Look forward to it."

**Afterword:**  
**Yaaaaayyyy ending it right there...so this was really similar to the actual doujin in some places, like in some places I quoted it and stuff so if you would like to read it, it's right here! Thanks for reading, reviews and *constructive* criticism always welcome! **

**P.S. **  
**If there is any usage of human names, I'm sorry about that. When I first wrote this I used human names but then I changed it to country names so lol gomen.**

**P.P.S.S.**

**So I kinda used 'Germania' and 'Felichen' so I kind of cheated okay because Germania is another country and Felichen is just like basically Italy's human name so oops deal with it *pirouettes off a mountain* **


End file.
